


The constant wonder of the what if’s

by GeeWritesStuff11



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Also a bit AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, It will also make you happy (sometimes), Post-War, past reimagined, present reimagined, this is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeWritesStuff11/pseuds/GeeWritesStuff11
Summary: What would you do if you were given the opportunity to see how your life could have been if you'd taken a different path? Would you take it? Risk seeing everything you have known all your life change in front of your eyes.For Draco Malfoy it wasn't an option.After an accident at the ministry, he's thrust into a place where enemies turn to friends, the dead are alive and he doesn't even know himself.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

The atrium of the ministry of magic was as busy as ever. Witches and wizards in long cloaks of all colors swarmed the hall and even though it was barely 8 am on a Monday morning the levels of noise were not far from those of a Quidditch stadium.  
People seemed even more chatty that morning, small groups stood around gossiping, not caring that they were standing in people’s way. Draco knew immediately that something had happened. It was always like this when some big gossip was being passed around. Plus the usual hostile looks he received when in a crowd were noticeably fewer.

As he made his way through the crowd, he caught a few words from an ancient looking man who talked a bit too loud.  
“Batshit crazy I tell yah”

He could not help being a bit curious, working at the ministry could get a bit dull sometimes and a bit of gossip was always welcome. By the time he reached his office he did not know more than the few snippets that made no sense. On his desk were a good 20 memos already waiting for him. He got to work putting whatever everyone was talking about out of his mind. 

His morning was full of running all around the building, going from office to office, looking through files, and boring paperwork. It was the usual for him being a Junior at the experimental magic office. He was what Blaise liked to call “everyone's bitch” and as much as he hated admitting it, it was kind of true. He was stuck with the boring work while the upper ranking employees got to do the exciting part. You know, the part that requires a wand. And what made it worse was the fact that most the people in his department hated him or at least seemed to deeply dislike him.

Although to be fair most of the ministry employees disliked him not just those in his same department.

They would give all the work to him, ignoring the fact that there were 2 other junior or that some of the work was theirs to do not his, but he ignored them for the most part. Their hateful comments would never get to him, and perhaps that was also why they resented him even more, for they knew no matter what they did they never managed to get a reaction from him. He was the model of quiet, respectful, and hardworking, things they never would believe he could be.  
When lunch time came, he was more than halfway through the day's work. He made his way through the hallway until he reached the head of department's office, Mr. Callaway’s door was open, he sat behind the desk reading the prophet just as he always did at that time of day. As if feeling Draco’s presence, he looked up and a big smile appeared on his face.

"Draco lad, come in." He folded up the newspaper and put it aside.  
Mr. Callaway was one of the counted people at the ministry that was nice to Draco. Being the suspicious person Draco was at first he believed the man was only being nice as an act so that he could watch him closer, but after some time he knew that the man was one, if not the nicest person he had ever met and even though he was his boss and a good 40 years older than him they became an unlikely pair of friends. That was perhaps another reason his colleagues disliked him even more.

"How was your weekend Sir?" 

"It was a good one if ever, the kids came over..." Mr. Callaway was a talker, and Draco was a good listener. 

There was only silence when they started eating the food their respective house elves had brought for them. They had had the same lunch routine for more than a year now. They would eat and talk about sports, the economy, or whatever news there was on the prophet.  
Mr. Callaway genuinely liked Draco, it had taken him some time to get the young man to open up but once he did it was impossible not to befriend him, he was smart, witty and eternally charming. It was not of him to judge based of errors from his past, specially a past where he had been no more than a boy.  
They were just finished eating when Mr. Callaway brought up the subject that had long left Draco’s mind. "Did you hear what happened over the weekend Draco? I hate gossip but it's just so sad”.

The man's ever-present smile had left his face and was replaced by a frown, it was that what caught Draco's attention. He had expected some interdepartmental scandal maybe an affair or someone’s drunken escapades had gone public, but from his boss’s tone this seemed much more serious.

"I have no idea what happened, I could only hear bits and pieces from people at the Atrium" He answered trying to keep his curiosity from showing

"Well apparently Miss Hermione Granger is at St Mungo’s" That was certainly not what Draco was expecting to hear.

"Granger? What happened?" 

"She seems to have been long suffering from some sort of addiction and she almost died on the weekend." Mr. Callaway’s words left Draco silent. Granger, the ministry's golden girl and poster child. 

She had become somewhat of the face of the ministry in the most recent years, the whole wizarding world knew her and even though she was no older than 24 it was common knowledge that she would be the next minister of magic. 

The war broke the wizarding world apart, but the aftermath of the war broke its heroes. When everything ended it was Granger who spoke for the Order of the phoenix and for Potter who seemed to go dim. The so-called golden trio that he knew from school were long gone. Potter and Weasley who had both rushed to become aurors and lock up all the baddies they could get their hands on, had lost their spark in the recent years. 

Scar boy was a known alcoholic with a temper problem that though efficient in his work, he was mostly seem brooding around smelling of whiskey in unkept robes. The weasel was still living with his parents and very much still under the shadow of his brothers, the last time Draco had seen him he was unrecognizable, he looked 10 years older than he really was and had lost so much weight that a gust a wind could easily take him away. 

Granger had perhaps been the most unchanged of the 3, he had seen her various times since he joined the ministry. She was always running around much like him, her hair always wild and ever-present bags under her eyes. She always looked tired but unlike potter she was always smiling and talking to people. It was only a few months ago that rumors started to arise about her, but they were quickly shut down for no one believed anything could be wrong with the brilliant young woman.  
Draco left Mr. Callaway’s office soon after, they had discussed the subject but briefly, after all. gentleman like them were above such things as gossip. But for the rest of the day as Draco continued his work, he could not keep the whole ordeal out of his mind. 

Even after almost 6 years the war kept collecting victims. It was as Mr. Callaway had said, very sad.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1:

From the moment he woke up, Draco knew it would be one of those days where luck was not on his side. It had been a rough night, he spent most of it tossing and turning so he had gotten little to no sleep. Then, at breakfast, he spilled his coffee on his robes. He tried casting a cleaning charm on them, but they only grew so hot he feared he'd catch on fire before they managed to look even slightly presentable. Stomping his feet like a child, he had to go change, cursing himself under his breath for being unable to cast such a simple spell.

When he finally managed to arrive at his office, it was to find a very angry member of Law Enforcement needing some old file. The man spent the next 15 minutes going on about insubordination and pretty faces not being enough for the job. Meanwhile, Draco counted under his breath; it was the only thing stopping him from hexing the wizard. He was glad when he finally left, but only a few minutes passed before a memo arrived summoning him to the courtrooms to act as a scribe for the Wizengamot.  
If there was one thing Draco hated, it was going down to the courtrooms. It brought back many memories he wasn’t fond of, most of them had him sat in what felt like a pit, hearing all the terrible things he had done or had witnessed and being unable to find his voice to defend himself.

For the good part of 5 months after the war ended, his life had been spent halfway in house arrest and half at the ministry. The trials for his family had been long and tedious, always garnering a full court audience that were very transparent as to their opinion of his family: in their eyes, he was guilty. Guilty of being what he had been raised to be, for believing what he was taught, for realizing too late of just what that brand on his arm meant.

He sat in the courtroom uncomfortably rigid, not being able to relax even though he now sat on the opposite side, the safer side. Only a part of the Wizengamot was present as the offenders were not being charged for serious crimes but being there was like being judged all over again. Of course, the stares now were much more masked and most of them were probably ignoring him, but it took a while for him to recompose himself and gradually calm down. He spent all his day writing away, with 10 or 15 minutes between trials, that he spent counting and recounting his breaths each occasion he had to enter a courtroom, remembering a time he had not been sure he would leave it as a free man. His lunchbreak was spent organizing his scrolls and making sure he had left nothing out.

By 4 pm he was ready to go home, his hands were smudged with ink from taking notes and, somehow, he had again stained his robes, only, instead of coffee t was some form of goo a witch carrying a very big cauldron had tipped into him on the lift ride back to his office.  
A part of him wanted to leave them as they were and just ignore the stain, but it was impossible for him. People could say what they wanted about his family, but they could not deny the Malfoys were always dressed impeccably. Maybe now he could put to work his time in charms class and clean his robes without putting fire on it. 

He just needed to get to his office. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Malik, the head investigator of the department, looking around, searching for someone. He just needed to get to his office, only five steps. Mr. Malik set his eyes on him and started walking toward him. Three steps, he could do it, he could clean the filth out of his clothes, he could...

"Malfoy!" Draco turned to see Mr. Malik, the head investigator of the department walking toward him. "There you fuckin’ are. Greggs and Donovan need you" Draco could feel his mouth grimacing, Greggs and Donovan, or Guffus and Dungus as he called them in his mind, were the stupidest and most annoying people in the Ministry and their favorite hobby was tormenting him, like they still were in fuckin school.

"Me, sir?  
  
"Yes, you boy. Mr. Callaway thought you’d like some field work." The man wiped some sweat from his forehead and Draco contemplated about how this, this old and out of shape wizard is the head investigator of the department. "They’re at 273 Buern street, the old Fiddis house." All notion of tiredness was gone from his body and he barely nodded to Mr. Malik before almost running to the nearest place so he could apparate. It was not every day he actually got to go on site, so he would grasp the opportunity to prove his value.

He appeared just in front of the house. There were at least 10 wizards standing around the front, some from the Law Enforcement Squad, a couple of aurors and some members of his department, they looked at him suspiciously but didn’t stop him from entering.

The front door opened with a groan and revealed a dark and dusty interior. It was an old house; he had never been inside it before, but he knew the old owners and it certainly seemed like their style. The Fiddis family had been known to be lovers of the Dark Arts and, although they had lost their fortune some decades back, their last heirs rejoiced themselves in the memories of long-lost glory and status.

He closed the door behind him and stood listening to any sign of Guffus and Dungus. Muffled footsteps came from above, so he made his way upstairs. All through the hallway he couldn’t keep a chill from going down his back, it made his grip on his wand tighten, he wasn’t scared easily but nerves were starting to make his heart beat a bit too fast for his liking.The upstairs landing was just as grim as the first, as the only source of light came from an open door where Donovan and Greggs were. Inside the room, the two men each stood with wands directed at a massive wooden box that occupied most of the room. Neither of them acknowledged Draco when he entered the room and, judging by their expressions of concentration, they were probably casting some kind of nonverbal spell.

Most of the room was occupied by crates, boxes, and broken furniture, leaving very little space to move around. Dust decorated every surface along with scraps of paper and small bugs. Draco’s eyes were instantly drawn to a mirror that was propped against the wall near where his colleagues stood.

It was almost as tall as the bedroom with a frame that, from where he stood, looked like flowing silver: it was like a never-ending serpent slithering around and around, without stopping or varying its pace. He was too far away to see his reflection but once he really looked at it, he noticed that it didn’t really reflect anything apart from the walls.

It was then that Donovan let out a growl of frustration and noticed he was there.

"Oh, look here, Greggs, they sent Malfoy!" He guffawed, looking at his partner.

"We asked for backup, not a messenger" The other piped up. Dismissing those idiots' comments, Draco stared at them as if he could project respect and politeness with his eyes. "What do you need me to do, Greggs?"

"We need to open that box although we’ve already tried so… " Draco ignored the man and walked closer to the box, he looked at it at every possible angle, watching his feet so he did not nudge it accidently.

"What’s supposed to be in it" He asked without looking away from it.

"No idea." One of of the morons replied.

"It's the only thing that law enforcement couldn’t identify, that and the creepy mirror" added the other.

"Welp, you’ve got the stage to yourself, Malfoy, just don’t go setting the place on fire". He could almost feel the men’s ugly smirks as they stood behind him, they did not expect much of him. If he didn’t manage to open the damn box, he wouldn’t hear the end of it at the office.

Annoyed, he took a few steps back not wanting to be too close to whatever was inside, just in case. He tried not to pay too much attention to the mirror that now was just two or three steps from where he stood.Taking a deep breath, he concentrated and started to work casting every possible spell he could think of. He started with a revealing charm, but it just made his wand vibrate. Then, everything from reducto to bombardo. Hell he even tried alohomora.

The minutes passed but nothing worked.

Behind him his colleagues clicked their tongues in a mocking way, but he paid them no attention, he was determined to open that damned box. In his mind, he remembered every spell and charm he had learned in school.

That’s when he thought of it, it was his last option, he had seen his father use it on an old vault many, many years back. If it worked on a vault, why not a crate.  
He raised his wand, jabbed it and in his mind said the words he remembered.

Yellow sparks flew from his wand and the lid of the box was lifted into the air. Draco couldn’t contain a smug smile. He was just about to say something to the now silent Donovan and Greggs when it happened.

A sound not unlike a cannon went off, and as he looked toward the crate to see a flash of red light, he felt a sharp pain on his neck.

His hands instinctively went to the wound where he felt a cold object protruding from it and the warmth of blood oozing from it. In his panic, he tried yanking it out, but it wouldn’t nudge, every tug sent pain through the wound and it wasn’t long before a wave of dizziness threatened to make him lose his footing. His legs started to give out, but he forced them to walk backward to where the wall stood and would hold him up. Everything was groggy. He could see black specks and just when he thought the wall was near, an unusual liquid started covering his body.

It was cold, slowly going down his face and then his chest, he could feel the cold making his skin stand on end. It wasn’t numbing the pain but, for just a moment, he could think clearly. Yes, he was still falling but something was wrong. He waited for the wall or the floor to hit him, but it never did, the realization made him want to open his eyes, but they had closed without him noticing. Behind him there was a wall but propped on the wall was the mirror.

_____________

"He looks so pale" 

"He always looks like that Cissy” The words were quickly followed by "Ow! Ok, sorry, not funny!"

"Healer Steven said he would wake up in an hour or two Narcissa, don’t worry"

Draco's brain started waking up, he heard the voices without really listening to what they were saying or who they belonged to. Slowly his senses started to pick up on stuff: a weird minty ting in his mouth, an artificial smell around him, the feel of warm slightly scratchy fabric on his skin. He had pieces of information, but his brain did not want to put it together. He was awake but it was like a weird dreamlike state where you're aware of your existence, but can't exactly control it.

"He'll be fine. Draco is tough."

"I know but still… Look at his throat, all bandaged up and and..."

"There, there, Cissy..." The voices were replaced by a weird noise his mind could not process. His body was now starting to wake up and the first thing he felt was his throat, it felt dry and scratchy.

"But what if it is something more, you heard what Harry said. They do not know what that mirror really is or does. He went straight through it!"

"Yeah... but then it spit him out almost instantly, he was inside of it like 3 seconds."

It was the word mirror that finally seemed to wake him up and send his mind into overdrive. The last events he remembered rushed through his mind, the old Fiddis house, the crate, the red light and the sharp pain, his fall, the mirror. He had gone through the mirror and then he had passed out.

The smell and the scratchy fabric… St.Mungos most definitely. 

At least Guffus and Dungus managed to get help before he bled to death. His heart was racing in his chest, which made his head throb even more.

"...almost healed, he'll be at home in no time..." The man's voice was one he did not know, alerting his survival instinct and making him stay put. He wondered if he could be in trouble for the mirror thing.

"The Ministry is quite nervous about all this, especially his department..." Added another voice, a woman’s voice. She sounded slightly familiar, but he couldn’t quite figure out who it was.

"He'll probably just take a day or two and want to go back to work, he’s so stubborn..." 

That voice he recognized: his mother!

It was his mother’s presence that reassured him. He tried opening his eyes, but it was hard for they were heavy, and the room was so bright that almost instantly he wanted to close them again. They watered slightly and went a bit blurry. When his eyes finally adapted, he saw he was in a small white room with nothing in it, except the bed he lay on and a chair right beside it. At the foot of his bed stood 3 people with their backs to him. His mother stood closest to him; her hand was absentmindedly holding on to the frame of the bed with white knuckles.

On her right was a man, the one he’d heard, he had long brown hair that reached his shoulders and was dressed in a very peculiar way, his arm was draped over Narcissa’s shoulder. He was sure he had never seen him before, and the fact he was so casual with his mother surprised him deeply. His mother was anything but casual, she deeply disliked public displays of affection.

It was then that his mother looked back and caught him with his eyes open. 

"Draco!". She was at his side before he could even speak. Narcissa’s hands touched his face as if fearing he would disappear, as if, for a moment, she had believed his open eyes were just a trick of the light and of her worry. But he was awake and the weight that had been suffocating her heart lifted slightly. She was smiling at him and a stray happy tear was running down her cheek. He looked away uncomfortably, he had no handkerchief to offer her, so he just took her hand in his and squeezed. While she pulled herself together his eyes went to the man. He stood beside Narcissa with a smile on his face. 

"See I told you Cissy. Your mum believed you were a goner, could you believe that, Draco?" He chuckled and waited for him to join. 

But something in Draco's face gave away his confusion. 

"You alright mate?" the man's smile was gone and now he looked slightly nervous. His question made his mother wipe her tears and stand a bit back. 

"What is it darling?" She asked, making him feel even more confused. He could not remember the last time his mother referred to him as any other way than his name, especially when there were other people in the room.

"Love?" It was the other woman who spoke out now, her presence forgotten for a moment because she had stayed back until now. It was then that she entered his line of sight. She too looked worried but, unlike the mystery man, Draco knew exactly who she was.

It was Hermione Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! I'm so exited to share this 1st chapter with you guys and really hope you like it.  
> Massive shoutout to Jabean for the feedback and a very very very big one to Jiminie for helping this chapter reach it's full potential!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

Granger? He could not help staring at her, social rules be damned.

What was _she_ doing there?

The last Draco had known about her, she was still recovering from her “incident”. And yet, there she stood, looking as healthy as ever, staring right back at him. Maybe he had been asleep longer than he thought, enough for Granger to be back at her Ministry duties. It would not be unusual for her to visit a Ministry employee that was injured while working.

Surely that was it, she was only there to talk to his family on behalf of the Ministry. Although, that did not explain the man’s presence.

Something in Draco’s mind clicked. Of course, that is who she had called love. It was unusual for her to bring her boyfriend along, and the fact that the man looked like he was 20 years older than her didn’t escape him, but then again who was he to judge. Still, that did not explain why the man talked to him as if they were long friends and his casualness with his mother.

Something just was not adding up.

He glanced at his mother, wanting some kind of reassurance but she was busy looking at Granger doing that thing women do when they communicate with their own kind, eyes telling all that words they could not express at the moment. Exasperated, he tried to break the silence, only what he meant to be words, came out as a heave followed by a lot of coughing.

An extreme burning sensation spread from his neck all the way to his throat making him cough until his lungs too felt like they were burning. He was aware someone had thumped his back and registered someone saying they were going for a healer, but he paid no mind to them, being too busy trying to stop choking on air.

_Great. Of all the things that have tried to end me, it is my own body that will kill me_

His windpipe felt raw by the time a healer arrived. With a wave of his wand, a curious sensation spread from his mouth to his thorax. He sighed as air filled his strained lungs again, letting him breath normally. He felt as if he had run for miles, which did nothing to help his building headache. His mother kept her hand on his shoulder, her motherly instinct telling her to stay near, just in case. Draco looked up to find a man dressed in lime green robes standing at his side.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may want to restrain from talking until I analyze the state of your wound." Healer Steven spoke to him like he was a child, his voice too friendly and his smile too big. Draco wanted to throttle the man for stating the obvious, normally he’d make some kind of remark but he rather not go into a fit again and conformed himself with looking daggers his way.

"Madam, Sir, Miss, could you wait outside while I analyze Mr. Malfoy, please" He added while extracting a clipboard from inside his robes’ pocket.

His mother stayed where she was, looking at him with worried eyes. It was only when the still mysterious man patted her on the back that she moved following, never taking her eyes off Draco until she had to close the door.

"I will check your throat now, Mr. Malfoy. Please, stay still."

He proceeded to perform numerous spells that Draco had never heard off, meanwhile making him open his mouth, raise his tongue and hum. His throat went hot and then suddenly cold, making it extremely difficult to _simply_ stay still. Then, healer Steven pointed his wand to the patient’s head, doing a weird kind of whirlwind movement. When the analysis was done, he wrote down on his clipboard.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I will need you to answer some questions for me.” He turned the page on his clipboard and gave it to Draco along with a quill. "If you cannot remember or do not know just shake your head, yes?"

Draco nodded, wanting more than nothing to get this over with.

"Do you know where you are?" Rolling his eyes Draco wrote “St.Mungos” on the clipboard, his calligraphy looked horrible compared to his normal elegant scrawl but his hands felt awkward holding the quill.

The healer nodded at his answer "Now, can you tell me which was your Hogwarts house?" Again, Draco lifted the quill and wrote Slytherin, to this the healer merely nodded. "What is your occupation, Mr. Malfoy?" The quill now felt like it weighed 10 times as much as before. Healer Steven merely hummed at the words Junior Experimental Magic at Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

"Last one, Mr. Malfoy. What form does your patronus take?" Draco had the quill ready when the question really sunk in. His patronus? He had never actually cast one. Of course, he had tried it out of sheer curiosity many years ago, but no matter how much he recited the words, it just never worked.

"If you don't know just shake your head, Mr. Malfoy."

It may have been his pride or some inner Malfoy gene that made Draco stare at the wall unwilling to shake his head. It was insulting! What kind of answer was the healer expecting?

“Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Well, your wound seems to be healing correctly albeit slowly, the blade carried some kind of venom we haven’t been able to identify but it spread all the way to your throat and reached your vocal cords, hence the pain when you try to speak. You will need to stay at least 2 more days for us to administer what is needed for the wound to heal on its own. Now, if you excuse me, I expect your mother is waiting for me outside.”

* * *

As soon as the door opened, Narcissa was ready to hound the healer with a million questions.

“How is my son? Will he be alright?”

"Yes, Madam Black. Mr. Malfoy is recovering as expected…”

"But then why was he in pain?" Narcissa interrupted the healer before he could finish his sentence. He patiently answered her, being used to dealing with this from patient’s families.

"His wound is very serious and requires certain cares while the potions do their work. The object used was covered in some type of venom that requires very careful ministrations."

"How long will he need to stay here?” That time it was Hermione who spoke.

“A couple of days, maybe 2 or 3. Although there is more than just the wound, I fear. Do you know what dissociative amnesia is, Madam Black?”

“It's amnesia from trauma” Hermione mumbled, unable to help herself. She felt a wave of emotion wash over her as she spoke. Worry had been present from the moment the news that Draco was at St. Mungos was delivered to her, but now it was not just worry. She felt her eyes sting at the prospect of being forgotten by her best friend. In his mind she was a stranger, but to her he was one of the most important people in the world.

"He lost his memory?” Narcissa gasped, her hands covering her mouth.

“Well, dissociative amnesia works in a way that he may not remember certain aspects of his life in a span, starting from yesterday up to decades back.”

“How bad is it?” Hermione queried.

“He is very confused, and I would recommend a person of trust to be beside him at all times. The memories will come back gradually and being surrounded by familiar people always helps. And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to attend another patient." With that, healer Steven walked away without another word.

“That's why he looked at me like that, he…He doesn’t remember me.” Hermione tried and failed at keeping the emotion from her voice.

“Nor me” added Sirius looking, just as dejected.

Narcissa sighed, “It will all come back to him, we just need to help him remember”.

* * *

Draco had his ear pressed against the door as soon as it had closed behind healer Steven. He did not trust the man. There was just something about him that had him leave the comfort of his bed to prove if what he had told him was really everything. He listened intently.

The fact that his mother had been called Madam Black didn’t skip his attention, but he had bigger concerns.

Amnesia?

What kind of healers was St. Mungos training nowadays, because _that_ one was wrong. He did not have amnesia! He could remember everything up to when he had gone through the mirror.

He was Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy Nee Black. His birthday was June 15th. He was a Slytherin and his best friends were Blaise and Theo. He worked at the Ministry. He was a good person. Or at least he tried to be.

It was in a haze that Draco returned to his bed repeating who he was to prove to himself that his memory was as good as ever. It was with difficulty that he controlled his breathing.

_Please, not a panic attack, not now._

He eyed the room, 

**Breath in**. 

He'd be fine. He'd figure this out. 

**Breath out**. 

Maybe it was all just a joke. 

**Breath in**. 

Maybe he was still falling through the mirror, maybe he was still dreaming.

 **Breath out**. 

Everything would be alright, this being a so very funny joke or an everlasting dream, everything would be fine.

The thing was: the pain in his body was very much real and his mother was not one to joke. Not to mention that getting granger out of her own ward just for a joke seemed a bit too much if you asked him.

Letting his head hit his pillow, Draco sighed. It wasn’t a joke but there was definitely something wrong here and he was going to find out just what was happening.

* * *

By the time his mother returned, Draco had successfully calmed himself down enough to really think. After a small pep-talk to himself, he had strategized. He had no wand and couldn’t talk, had no money on him and was wearing a flimsy gown that if he were to stand up, everyone would see his bum. He would play along with the whole amnesiac act until he could get his hands on a wand. So, for now, the only thing he needed to do was to look confused which, considering that day’s events, would come naturally to him.

His mother returned bearing a cup of tea for him and a smile that made him remember his childhood.

"Hello, darling, brought this for you".

He barely had stopped himself from responding. Not talking was hard, or at least not talking to his mother.

Behind her, the man and Granger walked in, baring similar smiles and trying to look friendly.

“Healer Steven said you may have trouble remembering some people, dear. This is my cousin Sirius. Do you remember him?” His mother asked.

Draco shook his head trying to not let his eyes widen at the realization that he did know who the man was. He looked very different from the last time he’d seen him, but, then again, that had been a good 9 years ago, not to mention as far as Draco knew Sirius Black died more or less around that time.

“It’ll come back to you, Draco, no worries.” He responded with a wink.

“And this is Hermione, your...”

“Friend. Hi, Draco.” Granger regarded him almost shyly. He merely nodded at her before hiding his face behind his cup of tea. He could not stop himself from staring at her.

Hermione Granger, his _friend_? There was definitely something _wrong_ here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you like this chapter! Kisses


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3:

Draco hated mornings with a passion, being a night owl just did not help with waking up early. So, when he felt consciousness taking over, he snuggled into his warm blanket wanting to remain asleep. It only took a few minutes for him to know that sleep wasn’t coming back. He stayed still with his eyes still closed, drowsiness keeping his mind empty and his breathing calm. For those precious moments, he forgot where he was.

_I must get up, can’t be late for work. The sheet feels scratchy, I have to tell Tulip to change them._

It was not until he opened his eyes that it all came back to him with full force. He pulled his hair holding back a groan, the pain reminding him that everything was real.

He was awake.

This was no dream.

 _Shit_.

Breathing deeply, Draco made to get back to the prior day’s state of mind. Overthinking would get him nowhere, he had to go with it, at least until he had a wand. Calming down let him hear footsteps outside his door.

In that moment, a healer he had never seen before came in bearing a tray loaded with breakfast. Wordlessly, she handed it to him and left. On queue, his stomach growled. He could not remember the last time he had eaten but, as unappetizing as the food looked, it was better than nothing. Although it was finished almost too soon, it managed to make him feel slightly better.

Draco looked around the room looking for something to occupy his mind on. He was a very active person that needed to be doing something or his brain took over and that usually made things go dark very quickly for him. To his relief, that's when Healer Steven made an appearance. He vanished the food tray and handed him a goblet full of potion. "Today I will be changing your bandages, Mr. Malfoy. Please, stay still."

 _Stay still_ , was that all the man knew how to say.

The bandages came off leaving the skin on his neck feeling sore. Healer Steven moved his head so he was facing the ceiling and looked at the wound almost too closely, making him feel uncomfortable at the proximity. “Seems to be healing up correctly externally, although I fear it will leave a scar."

 **A scar,** Draco wanted to scoff, _add it to the collection._ At least he was alive.

"Everything seems in order, Mr. Malfoy. You will be drinking both Isolt’s healing potion and a Scintillation Solution every few hours, that will be enough for you to hopefully leave soon and only have to come once a week for just a dose of each. I will see you in a few hours" He smiled and left leaving the door slightly ajar.

_Hmmm_

It was almost like a challenge, a very easy one. He had two choices: either take advantage of the already very open door or stay in his very comfortable bed boring himself to death.

Did he dare?

Maybe he could go and find a _Daily Prophet_ to see just what state the world was in, if everything had gone crazy or if it was just his life. Or perhaps, if he were lucky enough, he could get a wand. He was a skilled _legilimens_ and, even though he had long abandoned the use of his ability, now was the time for it to come in handy to get some answers out of people.

Slowly, Draco got out of bed, his warm feet touching the cold marble floor making him wince with every step. Just as slow he opened the door looking through the crack for anyone coming, but the hallway was as quiet as the room he was now leaving. There was no one in sight, and that was good, he certainly did not want anyone to see him dressed as he was. He had not seen his reflection in a mirror in quite some time and, as worried and confused as he was, his vanity was intact.

He walked slowly taking care of being as silent as possible. It brought him back to long forgotten nights at Hogwarts, when he would sneak out at night with the boys. The memory succeeded in making him smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

As he covered the distance of the hallway, he ignored the portraits on the walls that told him to get back to bed and to cover his bum. That last he did, with one hand closing the gap at the back of his gown. He would stop at every door and stand trying to hear something, but everything was eerily silent.

It was not until he reached the corner that he finally met someone, or rather ran smack into someone. The impact almost had him losing his footing. Cursing, he righted himself.

"Draco?" It was the voice that made him look up

_Oh! For Merlin's most baggy pants._

It was FREAKIN' Potter.

His glasses were askew from their encounter and he looked genuinely surprised to see him. “What are you doing out of bed?" His gaze scrutinized Draco until his eyes widened with realization, "I'm sorry mate you probably don’t even know who I am, I’m Harry… Humm… Your mum, Narcissa, sent me. She had something come up and sent me instead." The messy haired man stared at the blond as if waiting for an answer and Draco, not knowing what to do, barely nodded. Of all the people his mother could have sent, she just had to send Harry _Freakin’_ Potter.

“C'mon let’s get back to your room, yeah". Unwillingly Draco walked back to his room, Potter’s hand on his shoulder. He felt like a child caught doing something mischievous. As they walked in silence, Draco could not help but think that maybe he could overpower Potter for his wand, which he held casually at his side. But he decided it was a bad idea, Potter would probably give a fight and that would sure to attract people. He would be outnumbered and probably locked up for good. So, he let the idea die.

Draco went straight to his bed when they got to his room, Potter choosing to sit at the chair beside him.

“Almost forgot, your mum sent you this” he handed Draco a small rucksack. “She thought you’d be bored...” He explained.

Inside were some books, magazines, and a copy of the day’s _Daily Prophet_. Deciding it would be best to read it later, he put it aside and wished to be left alone.

In his distraction he did not notice Potter was still speaking but, while he jabbered off about _Merlin knows what_ , Draco could not help but feel more than a little awkward. 

To say his relationship with Potter was complicated was an understatement. For many years he loathed him, at first it was a simple dislike rooted from Potter representing everything Draco was taught to look down on: he was poor, raised by muggles and, as if that wasn’t enough, he was the one that defeated the Dark Lord. 

Add to it that childish stuff like being in enemy houses, their constant competitiveness in quidditch and that he seemed to attract everyone and everyone’s _attention_ to him, it was second nature for Draco to hate him. And as the years passed, those feelings grew and grew with the Dark Lord's return, his father's imprisonment, and Draco's joining the Death Eaters. It was impossible to erase all that history. He knew that in many of the instances where they had faced each other it had been his own fault, but Potter gave as well as he received.

Now, being an adult, he looked back and knew that he had been a total git, but many of the horrible things he said and did were mere child's play. Yes, he was cruel at times but never with the plan to really hurt, he just loved the attention really. He was used to it; being an only child, praise was his fuel and, suddenly being amongst all those kids, he was swallowed into the crowd. He did not want that, he was a Malfoy and all his life he was taught that everyone wanted to be like him: rich, pureblood, handsome, brilliant, admired and even feared. That was what he wanted to be seen as, so he became his only reference, he became a mini version of his father.

It did not take long for him to know that he didn’t want to be like his father, but, by then, it was too late. He had made himself a reputation, so he stuck by it. After the war, many of his so-called friends acted like they never even knew him, only Blaise and Theo stuck by. Even Pansy went off with her forever declarations of love to him.

When his trials came by, Potter vouched for him and his family. He never really knew why he did it, but he was secretly thankful. They never crossed a word, not during the trial or after. When bumping at the Ministry, they simply ignored each other. That was best, it was easier.

He had witnessed Potter's decomposition from afar, the old him would have laughed but he couldn’t help feeling bad for him. They had fought on different sides in the war but, at the end of the day, they were both victims: they were children that were forced to fight.

But now, with Potter by his side, it was hard to ignore all that. He had known of the man for so long, they had gone to school together, heck they even had quite a few things in common. But a big part of him wanted Potter to leave. It reminded him of stuff he had long put in the past, he could not change it and knew that dwelling over it made absolutely no difference.

"I'm sorry mate, I think I’m jabbering about. You probably don’t know what I’m talking about. I am just used to getting your opinion on the cases I’m working on, you always see stuff that I miss. And now with this whole Crouch business" He confessed, rubbing his neck.

Interested in what he meant by "crouch business" Draco put on his most charming smile and gestured with his hand for him to go on. Potter smiled back and did just that, "Well, you see… Humm... a couple weeks ago, Barty Crouch, he’s the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he was found dead in his property, his assistant had been trying to contact him to no avail, he got worried and flooed over. Found his boss and called us. He was chained to the stair bannister. Died of hunger. We searched the house, found Polyjuice ingredients and, to judge by the body’s haircut, it was an easy conclusion. I don’t think we’ve ever been as busy.” Draco listened intently not giving anything away, Barty Crouch? He remembered the man; he had got to meet him and had also heard the stories about him.

“We did some digging, apparently Theodore Nott had been visiting Crouch’s office a lot lately, weird when you consider it was Crouch that put his father in Azkaban. You probably don’t remember Nott, he went with us to school, he was bully, quiet a git, positively hated us, head of his band of Slytherin purebloods, he had the building for a Death Eater if I’ve ever seen one”.

It was hard for Draco to keep a straight face. It almost felt like Potter was describing him in their own school days. But Theo? Potter must be talking about someone else because the Theo he knew, positively hated everything that had to do with Voldemort. He always got a bad time from his father who tried hammering it into him. He knew, he'd seen the scars and had heard the tales. While Lucious Malfoy was keen to pass onto Draco his beliefs of blood supremacy, Theo's father took it a step too far, going as far as making him _crucio_ the house elves just for the fun of it. And, as far as Azkaban went, much like his own father, Theodore Nott Senior didn’t step foot in prison until after the whole department of mysteries fiasco.

"He's also been holding a number of get-togethers with quite the invitation list, mainly suspected ex-Death Eaters and purebloods. No one in the department cares, they say I’m looking too much into him because of our past history but I don’t know, I’ve got a feeling about this..." Potter seemed lost in thought as he finished talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Things seem like they are going slow, but bare with me ;) Please leave a comment, feedback is always appreciated. Kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

Luckily for Draco, Potter did not take long to leave, although he did plant many, _many_ questions into his mind. He was left wondering even more about all the changes that were happening, all the people that he knew to be dead that were suddenly back to life without anyone even batting an eye. Putting all these questions aside, he decided it was the moment to read the _Prophet_ his mother had sent him. 

Just the cover was enough for him to know that things were not what he expected. There were many changes, these being specially related to the Ministry and overall politics. For one, Rufus Scrimgeour still occupied the post of Minister of Magic. The whole Ministry hierarchy was alien to Draco, which stunned him considering he had been working there for the past 2 years.

He was also surprised to find the news of his accident on page 3. It was a short article that really did not give anything away except the fact that he was at St. Mungos. It was also clearly stated that he was a ministry employee. Although for the most part the wizarding world seemed not to be the same, it was with amusement that he read that the _Tornados_ were still leading the British quidditch cup. 

Draco spent the rest of the day reading and rereading the newspaper, trying to let the information sink in, every few hours drinking potions brought by healers and intermittently sleeping.

By the next day, healer Steven decided he was free to go home. After taking a dose of his potions and listening to a 15-minute-long speech by his healer about what he could and could not do, he was set to go. His mother arrived carrying fresh clothes for him and insisted on carrying the duffel of books and of his belongings that the hospital had taken from him when he was received. Unluckily for him his belongings included his wand. He tried to brush off the fact that his mother had very obviously ignored that he had reached for his wand and instead pocketed it herself. Begrudgingly, he offered his arm to her. She was perhaps the only person he trusted and he couldn’t be upset with her for trying to take care of him, even if her caregiving got in the way of his plans to get his wand back.

“Ready?”

Draco nodded at her inquiry and immediately felt himself twist on the spot and the familiar pressure of apparation.

Disappointment filled him as soon as he opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings. He had been looking forward to returning to the Manor, his mind seemed to think that maybe going home would bring some sense of comfort. They had instead gone to a small park that looked like it was in a muggle neighborhood. "Healer Steven said you had to continue your life as always and Sirius wouldn’t let me take you home with me" She explained as they walked toward a building that looked as if it had seen better days. 

It was clear what his mother thought of Sirius’s opinion, but her actions were what resonated more to Draco. Narcissa Malfoy was a woman very much used to doing things her way, it spoke very much of her relationship with Sirius that she would concede even though she wished to do the opposite. Draco added it to the list of things to ponder on later.

"Do you see it, darling?" his mother suddenly broke the silence as they reached the sidewalk in front of the building.

"See what?" he followed his mother’s line of sight, but she seemed to be staring at a piece of blank wall between two doors. 

"We weren’t sure if with your memory gone the _fidelius_ charm would let you in. I guess not." she explained. "I'll call Sirius".

Looking around for any muggle watching, she took out her wand and casted what he could only guess was a Patronus. In the daylight it was faint and even more translucent. It quickly went toward the building and disappeared; Draco could have sworn it was a white furred rabbit though.

They stood in silence waiting until out of nowhere a man appeared. He recognized the man of course, now knowing his name was Sirius Black. "Alright, mate" he greeted when reaching Draco to which the blond only nodded. " Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place" he added quietly. "Repeat it in your mind" Sirius added as he took in Draco’s confusion.

He raised a silver brow but did it anyway, _Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place_.

Seeming satisfied, Sirius started walking, "C'mon then".

It was then that Draco noticed what he could not just a moment ago: a door had sprung up where before there was not one. Curiosity filled him and it was only the fact that he knew he should not talk that stopped him from asking how that particular type of magic worked. He was not ignorant to wards having lived all his life at Malfoy Manor, where there were many property wards placed over the building and its land, but this was very different. It was fascinating.

When he finally entered, Draco was greeted by an interior he could only describe as grim. It was dark all over, and not just by the absence of light but also by the dark paneled walls and dark floor. He walked after Sirius in silence analyzing the long hallway from its strange candleholders to the troll leg umbrella. It was until they entered the kitchen/dining-room that the house looked more welcoming.

The room was cavernous and illuminated by a roaring fire in the grate and, right in front of it, stood a massive wooden table. Sitting at the table were none other than Potter and Granger, both nesting cups of tea. They had stopped their conversation and just stayed watching him. Draco had to school his expression, he had to remember: these people for some reason believed he was their friend. He smiled and took the chair Potter pulled for him.

"Some tea, Draco?" Asked Sirius moving around the kitchen. He looked at the man and nodded. A cup of tea came in handy for hiding his face if needed and, considering there were 4 people who just seemed like they couldn’t stop staring at him, he would need it.

"It's been quiet without you here, mate" Potter smiled his way.

"Yeah, much less fighting over whose turn it is to cook", chuckled Sirius placing a mug in front of Draco. “In times like these I miss having a house elf”, he added, sitting down at Draco’s other side.

“Well, that won’t be a problem as I’ll be staying for a few days.” He turned to see his mother looking at Sirius, a silent challenge if he had ever seen one.

“As you wish, Cissy, our house is your house.” Sirius answered cordially with a thin-lipped smile.

“Um… hey, Draco” Potter attempted to break the awkward silence, “Tomorrow we have dinner at the Burrow. Everyone is looking forward to seeing you, and of course you are invited too, Narcissa,” he added with a smile at his mother, “Molly’s been mentioning some moondew that she wanted to ask you about”.

Sipping his tea, Draco absentmindedly looked around the room, his obvious display of curiosity perfectly acceptable due to the whole amnesiac act, he had never been in a kitchen before and he couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible for them to make their own meals themselves. After a moment, his attention went to something else: the duffel where his wand was stored that now lay on the table beside his mother. He wanted to reach for it more than nothing, but he stomped on the feeling, knowing it was not the moment. Sensing someone looking at him, Draco looked up and was met by a pair of brown eyes. 

The moment Granger was caught staring, she looked away but not without feeling her cheeks heat up. Draco remained watching the young witch even when she pretended to be looking at Narcissa, but he knew she could feel his eyes on her. Her cheeks were pink, and it did not escape Draco that she hadn’t as much as uttered a single word from the moment he had entered the room. Perhaps Granger was not as much his friend as his mother had said.

“Draco, would you like to eat now, or do you want to freshen up first?” asked Narcissa, making Draco return his attention to the conversation of the others. It took him a second to think of how to communicate and he ended up doing a rubbing motion on his head. It made him feel silly, but his mother understood it.

“I’ll take you to your room.” She grabbed the duffel bag and started to get up.

“Cissy, just tell him how to go by himself, he’s not a kid.” Sirius grabbed her arm, stopping her and earning him a very dirty look from his cousin, “2 floors up, the second door on the left, you’ll know when you see it.” He added, now to Draco.

He nodded and waved goodbye, very much feeling all their eyes on his as he left the room. He was halfway up the first flight of stairs when the sound of his mother’s very angry voice reached him. Deciding it was Sirius’s problem, he kept walking. For a moment, he had looked at the front door, knowing that he could easily make a run for it but what good would it make? Outside that door without a wand, he was as good as a squib. He looked on the bright side of things, at least now he would be able to finally take a bath. His muscles felt slightly stiff from finally moving around and he hoped that place counted with a decent bathtub.

Reaching the door Sirius had pointed him to, he now knew what the man had meant by “you’ll know when you see it” as at head’s height there was a small golden plaque stuck to the door, where only two words were written on it in perfectly elegant letters: _Draco Malfoy_.

This time he did not overthink the meaning of it, with a slightly shaking hand he opened the door and went inside.

The sight that met him was unexpected.

Everything from the wall colors, to the bedsheets and the smell of the room was familiar. The dark silver walls and black furnishing were almost identical to those in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. His bed was very big and looked just as comfortable as the one he had missed for the past days. There was a wardrobe, some side tables, a desk, a dresser and a door that he expected would lead into an ensuite.

A chill went through him as he closed the door behind him.

Not knowing what to do first, he found himself going toward the dresser where a series of books and various containers were neatly arranged. An urge to open them one by one almost overtook him but he was scared, scared of the knowledge that he knew what was in each one of them.

He knew that, if he opened the second drawer, he would find his favorite pajamas, the top drawer reserved for his socks. Opening each drawer only proved him right, it was unsettling. As inviting as his bed looked, he was curious to see what else he could recognize. He got a strange rush from it, it felt like looking through someone else's things but at the same time he knew it was all his, there was no doubt anymore.

The room spoke of him. In another time perhaps, it could be a safe place but right now it made him feel even more confused than before. 

He now walked toward the wardrobe where he could see movement coming from several photographs that had been tapped onto the doors. From afar he could tell that the occupants of them were very much the same 4 people: Potter, Weasley, Granger and himself.

Arm in arm in what he could guess, from their young faces, was their first year at Hogwarts.

One with just the boys all in quidditch uniforms.

Another with himself and Granger smiling at the camera.

There were many of Granger, some recent and some not so much.

In all of them he was smiling, laughing, messing around, _arm in arm_ with the golden trio.

Draco could feel his stomach drop from looking at them. The pictures were taken all through his Hogwarts years and some seemed very recent. He did not know if he even had that many photographs of himself at the Manor, the ones he knew of were mainly family photographs and yearly portraits his mother insisted on him taking. This was totally different. He could not really remember being as _happy_ as he seemed in the pictures in his school years.

And then there was something more: the fact that in every Hogwarts photograph something else was different. His scarves, quidditch uniform, sweaters were all the wrong color. They were scarlet and gold, not his beloved green and silver.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. His head met the cold wood of the dresser as he slumped forward.

He was _exhausted_.

This was all _too much_.

Trying to compose himself, he looked away from the pictures and instead opened the wardrobe. Inside were many sets of robes, most of them were blue, he scanned over them before the meaning of the _blue robes_ really entered his head.

These weren’t just any blue robes; they were Ministry blue robes. _Unspeakable_ robes. He worked at the Department of Mysteries!

Draco couldn’t believe it; the news made the photographs leave his mind completely.

Those blue robes, he had dreamt of wearing them since he was 15. The memory was fresh in his mind, he was in his 5th year at Hogwarts, going through the pamphlets of possible career paths provided by his head of house. Of course, back then he'd overdone the whole bored act of huffing and ugh-ing as much as possible, repeating to his friends and to anyone that would listen how he was reading them because he had to not because he really needed to. As a Malfoy, his future was planned for him from the moment he was born, so the pamphlets were useless for him.

He knew that if things continued as they were, he would probably have to follow in his father’s footsteps. However, a part of his mind, a very _small_ and _secret_ part, wished with _all his soul_ that he wouldn’t have to. He feigned boredom to his friends, but each pamphlet was read with disguised hunger.

When the pamphlet for the Department of Mysteries reached his hand, he was sold. It was as if it were written specially for him. Draco considered himself a very curious person. It wasn’t a secret that his father owned a very large collection of magical objects. From a young age, he had felt attracted to many of them, and his father approved of his curiosity thinking he lusted over the power they possessed, but really he just wanted to know all about the magic possessing each object, where the magic started and where it ended, how it came to be. He lusted over _knowledge_.

The cursed objects and those with unknown magic were his favorites. He could remember being 13 and looking through books wanting to find out as much as he could about certain types of magic. He dreamed of finally being 17 and able to truly experiment on them. For many years he read through many volumes, wanting to know as many detection spells as possible.

The Department of Mysteries would give him the power to sate his curiosity, experimenting with unknown kinds of magic. It also gave him the status that came from being a top member of the Ministry. Not to mention that Unspeakables held a certain air to them of brilliance that he liked.

He knew it would be difficult to even be considered to join that department, but he had always loved challenges. He needed top grades in Potions, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, DADA, Transfiguration and Herbology, apart from having to take extra courses, specific training, and multiple exams. And still that did not deter him, but quite the opposite: it was a small light in the darkness of his mind, it was perhaps the first true dream he'd ever had.

When it was his turn to take the career advice conference with Snape, he had kept quiet. It was _his_ light, and he would not let anyone put it out. Unfortunately, by the end of that year, his dream was replaced by other more urgent things. Like staying alive.

When he had joined the Ministry years ago, he had, of course, wanted to join the Department of Mysteries but with the new Ministry guidelines that came after the war, Unspeakables were only people that proved to be trustworthy to the Minister. It was needless to say that many were against him even being hired into a minor department, let alone one where he would have so much access to powerful magic. 

So, instead of his dream, he’d been pushed to join the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes with the very loose promise of being able to transfer departments if he managed to prove his worth to the Ministry.

His hands were tracing the stitches on a robe where his name was sewed into it. His dream had come true but at what cost. 

Sighing, he closed the wardrobe wanting to find the bath more than ever. Fortunately for him, he was right about the ensuite.

His hands worked automatically, his brain felt like mush after all the revelations of the day. All he wanted was a nap, to turn off from thinking about all this. A trail of clothes decorated the floor of his bedroom, but he did not even notice. Another thing he did not notice was the fact that the water from his bath was washing away the concealment paste he had over his Dark Mark.

* * *

Hermione and Harry had fled the kitchen as fast as they could, as it was not the first time they’d seen Narcissa and Sirius have a shouting match. The first time had been back when they were 15 and he had decided to take Harry and Draco along on one of his _adventures_. They had been gone for a week and Narcissa was very much hysterical when they returned. The fact that they came back very hungover and still smelling of firewhiskey did not help.

They were hiding in the study, waiting for the argument to end. Hermione sat curled in an armchair reading a book, or at least that is what it would look like if anyone were to walk in. She had tried to read but her mind kept wandering. 

The study had always been her favorite room in Grimmauld place but usually she was joined by a certain blond and they would curl up in the sofa, enjoying each other’s company as they each read whatever book tickled their fancy, sometimes showing the other some paragraph or phrase worth sharing. This had become their domain from the moment Draco moved in with Sirius and Harry, seeing as both men only consulted the vast collection when in need of some spell or potions recipe. But even then, books were their second option: they preferred asking Draco and Hermione first to save themselves the time and possible wrath of the two if they happened to place a book where they should not.

A certain pair of silver eyes kept popping up in her mind. Her heart ached and tears threatened to spill from her eyes from just remembering the way Draco had looked at her earlier. It had been like looking into a void. He just looked so different at times; she had felt it from the moment he had woken up at St. Mungo’s. His face seemed so emotionless, but his eyes. They told a different story, they showed a _storm_. Even when he smiled it felt cold, calculated. They had known each other from almost 13 years now and she could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

Perhaps she was being selfish, she knew he was very confused and possibly still in pain from his wound. She could not deny she had also seen glimpses of the Draco she knew. When he looked around at the kitchen, his eyes filled with childlike curiosity that usually led to many questions. The way he looked at his mother was very much the same, the same sweet tenderness. They were glimpses but they were enough for now, after all, it's our memories that shape us, without them we might as well be a shell.

_Stop thinking about it Hermione._

_He IS the same Draco, OUR Draco._

**_My_ ** _Draco._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii! As always I hope you liked the chapter, more coming very soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

When Draco's head finally hit his pillow that night, he could feel exhaustion weighing his body down onto the mattress. His brain, on the other hand, was wide awake and buzzing with all he had learnt that day. No matter how hard he tried to close his eyes and relax, he could not. He tossed and turned in bed, punching his already comfortable pillows into different forms to try and get into the perfect sleeping position.

Every time he would feel himself slightly losing consciousness, something would pop up, flashes of the photographs tapped to his wardrobe kept appearing in his mind's eye. His own smiling face taunted him, making Draco press the palms of his hands onto his eyes, trying to make the image disappear. They did, but were quickly replaced by Granger, Potter or even Weasley. It was haunting him. Frustrated, he sat up. If he could not shut his brain off, he would at least put it to good use. 

He was past the point of letting things take their due course, he could not keep waiting for answers. He needed them _now_ , and he was going to get them; but where to start? His mind was like a spider web with strings connecting, a single thread dividing itself into two, and those two into two and so on; until one thought had a preposterous number of outcomes. He needed to find that one string that led to all the others.

A memory came to him out of nowhere: he was sitting in one of the Manor's parlors, around him pieces of crystal from the chandelier were scattered on the floor, reflecting the light from the window onto the walls, making them look like diamonds. A sudden violent burst of magic had made the chandelier fall from the ceiling, leaving him more than a little shook. He was not hurt but the thought of his father seeing what he had done was frightening. His mother found him a sobbing mess, unable to utter a single word about what had happened. "Darling, everything has a beginning. Start there." The memory was a long forgotten one, it made a sense of longing settle into his chest. He reminded himself to hug his mother the next time he saw her.

When had this all started?

_The mirror_

That was the catalyst, he was sure.

The obvious route then would be to go back to the mirror and try to figure out just what its use was, using anything from ancient runes to charms, but considering that he could not talk nor had a wand, that seemed difficult; without adding to it the fact that he had _no idea_ where the mirror was. Judging by what was said in _The Prophet_ about his accident, he had been hurt on Ministry business, so he could guess the Ministry probably had the mirror. But where? Was it even in the Fiddis house? Or was it taken to the Ministry? And if it was, to what Department?

His only resource of Ministry information was perhaps Potter, who had earlier mentioned he still worked as an auror. He could always ask him. Then again, it seemed unlikely the aurors would be involved in a case regarding a magical object with unknown powers - that would usually go to the investigation team of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes or directly to the Department of Mysteries. Visiting the Ministry seemed like a very hard thing to achieve, especially because he had no idea just where he stood in regards to his post as an Unspeakable. He would have to ask Potter just to be sure, vague questions of course. He could not give anything away.

For now, the only thing he _could_ do was try to research as much as he could about enchanted mirrors. He scanned his brain for anything useful, but nothing came up. Some years ago, he had heard about cursed mirrors that showed wizards their deaths and drove them crazy, but, apart from that, nothing came to mind. Never had he heard of a mirror whose surface swallowed people. He would also investigate potions with possible reality altering effects; he could still remember what it felt like falling through it, so maybe he could match that with a potion’s description.

Usually, when faced with a doubt, he would always go to Blaise, who was quite brilliant himself and would help him not overlook anything, but in that moment, he didn’t know what his relationship with Blaise was like. The fact that he had not been at St. Mungos waiting for him to wake up spoke for itself. The thought of his best friend not being his friend anymore was a painful one, but he pushed it aside, he needed to concentrate on the bigger picture.

He would have to rely on himself to look for any possibly useful information. The next problem was the fact that he didn’t need just _any_ books, he needed advanced magical volumes, perhaps even dark magic tomes, the kind of books that were not found in just any household library nor sold in just any shop. If only he were at the mansion, there he knew he could find at least one volume in the thousands his family owned that could perhaps lead him to answers.

Once again, he was faced with the problem of his wand: he could not do anything without it. And judging by his mother's attitude, he doubted she would give it back and just let him go anywhere alone. He needed to somehow get it back or sneak someone else's into his pocket. Nonverbal spells were not really an issue and going to the Manor would not be difficult - no matter what changes there could be, he was still a Malfoy.

Draco was used to working alone. He always had been the suspicious type and it had always been better that way. But, in that moment, the weight of being alone seemed to push him into himself; a constant headache and the ever present need to overthink everything. He wished he had someone he could rely on. It was hard having to put on a face when surrounded by people and then not be able to even think from all the thoughts in your head that you can’t share with anyone. Feeling alone was not exactly new to him but loneliness was not something you got used to.

He didn’t know any of the people around him hence he felt no trust whatsoever in asking for their help or even for their opinion - you just never know how people will react to you asking certain questions and he didn’t want people to suspect there was anything wrong with him apart from the whole amnesiac thing.

Looking around the room, he tried to find something that could help, maybe some book or file concerning his job, maybe some Unspeakable handbook. He knew he would not find anything even before he started pulling out drawers and hanging from the edge of his bed to look under it, but he was _desperate_. He even went to the wardrobe, looking at the bottom for possible hidey holes.

He slammed the door of the wardrobe with frustration making it shake. He turned not wanting to see the photographs again, but his eyes lingered for a second too long. That second was enough to bring forth an idea.

Who was the biggest _know-it-all_ he knew, someone with an extensive knowledge that, even if unread on a subject, would probably investigate it from pure curiosity? 

_Granger!_

It was like a weight was lifted off his chest, the thought of being even slightly nearer to the possible answer of what was happening was enough to let him for once breath properly, his muscles seemed to untense and the throbbing at his temples lessened. He walked back to bed and, without even pulling the covers over himself ,he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

When morning came, Draco lay on his bed until his back ached. The house was quiet as he got up with the only intent of eating a big breakfast and finding Granger. His line of action was simple: he would go in with the full Malfoy charm, all smiles and attentiveness, being a perfect gentleman. Until this day, it had never failed him when trying to get people's favor, whether it was on a teacher or a Ministry witch. The only thing that slightly worried him was the fact that he couldn’t talk, he would need to communicate to get on Granger's good side. But then again both Sirius Black and Potter seemed perfectly amiable with him and all he had done was nod and smile at them, so that gave him a bit of confidence

Usually it would take Draco a good hour to get out of his bedroom in the morning but that day he decided he could forego the whole "showering and dressing up". As much as he had hated his stay at St. Mungo's, not having to care about his appearance was quite nice and, although he was a _bit_ vain, he was happy to play into the recovering person aesthetic. He took a look in the mirror and stepped outside putting only a robe over his pajamas.

_Even like this I look better than all the occupants of this household._

He had made his way down a set of stairs without a sign of the other occupants of the house. On the second set of stairs, he found Sirius.

"Mate, I was just going to wake you up" He stopped mid stairs looking relieved to see Draco. "I need to step out for a while, your mum had to go out this morning and won’t be back till later. Think you'll be ok to stay alone for a few hours?"

Draco nodded trying to hide his relief, the only good thing about being in the hospital was that he was left to his own accord. Here, he could always feel eyes on him, and he was pretty sure his mother meant for Sirius to watch him. 

Sirius smiled and continued his descent of the stairs beside Draco. "Your breakfast is on the table in the kitchen. Be good, yeah?"

Draco stood watching the man put on his coat before waving goodbye and heading into the kitchen. He was free to have breakfast at complete peace. His new surroundings were a weird comfort, the crackling of the fire soothing his nerves. He got lost in the utter normality of it.

As a last course of action before contacting Granger, Draco decided he could always look at the house's library, perhaps he could find something. When he left on his search for it, it was with a lighter step, knowing there was no one around and that he had at least a bit of autonomy. 

It did not take long to find the study. He was met by a pleasant surprise, the collection of books in the study was quite extensive. Ignoring the shelves filled with magical objects and the tapestry that held his name, he went straight to the books. Some were quite interesting, succeeding in capturing his attention even if they were of no use to his research. He scanned through what felt like hundreds of volumes, but nothing really mentioned anything of use. Just when he was reading into an ancient volume about alchemy someone came into the room.

"Oi! Draco!"

"Alright, mate"

Right in the threshold stood two identical red-haired men. For a moment Draco felt the book slipping from his hands. The last time he had seen them, one was laying on the floor of the Great Hall at Hogwarts after the Final Battle of the Second War among the dead while the other cried over his brother’s body.

"Hey, it's alright we're not some apparition, just twins." One of them spoke, lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

"Think we’ve scared him, Fred" The other smirked elbowing his brother.

"C’mon, mate, you really don’t remember us?" George walked toward the sofa a few feet from Draco and plumped down. Trying to regain his composure, Draco shook his head.

_One more person back from the dead._

"I am wounded" spoke Fred, putting his hand to his heart in a mocking hurt way.

"Well then, I’m George and that’s Fred," spoke George without getting up but merely pointing to himself and his brother lazily, "if it were any other person, we’d probably prank you but…"

"We wouldn’t do that to you, mate" finished his twin winking.

Draco smiled not knowing how else to react, his mind could not help but conjure up the memory of George Weasley punching him at a quidditch match in his 5h year after using some not so polite words to describe his mother. You just could never be too sure.

They made him feel _extremely_ nervous. They were always smiling - you cannot always be smiling - surely sometimes the smiles _had_ to be fake. And a fake smile was much worse than a frown. That he had learnt long ago.

"Harry says your mum took your wand, what are you occupying yourself with?" Draco answered by showing him the book he was holding.

"Ugh, must be boring" groaned Fred, earning a shrug from Draco.

"Well, I mean. You could always come to the shop with us-”

“-as long as you promise not to get into trouble” finished the other.

“What trouble could he get into, he’s got no wand and can’t talk.” chuckled Fred.

“Don’t you know the man, trouble seems to find him,” added his twin, even earning a laugh from Draco, “What’s life without trouble, ‘eh mate?” chimed George.

“As much as we support dressing down, you should probably put some shoes on, D” observed Fred making Draco blush and earning a dirty look before he left the room. He quickly put on some decent robes and shoes. The twins seemed to like him to some extent and he could possibly use that to his advantage - going to their shop could provide possible opportunities. If the shop was busy, he could easily slip out and go into Flourish and Blotts. Luckily for Draco, he had some Galleons stashed in a tin on his desk that he tucked into his pockets before leaving his room, just in case he could find a book worth buying or maybe even a wand. He didn’t look forward to spending his day with the twins, but the alternative was staying at Grimmauld place going through useless books waiting on his mother to arrive. Who knew, he may get lucky.

* * *

They apparated directly in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the doors were already wide open showing the very crowded interior. George put a hand on Draco’s shoulder and guided him inside. He had never been inside the shop; he had observed it from afar in its starting years when it was still a novelty. He felt curious but the fact that Weasleys owned it struck the idea down rapidly. Now being inside it, he understood the hype. The room was full of large shelves and exhibits that held hundreds of small novelty items, it was so colorful that your eyes had the need to move around, a new item calling for your attention at every step. Soft clicking here and then some not so soft explosions, it was an assault to the senses and, in a way, it made Draco feel like he was a child again, wanting to reach out and grab things from shelves.

They stopped walking once they reached the counter, finally allowing a place to stand without people pushing past you. “Hope this isn’t too much for you, pal… Maybe you want to be in the quiet?'' Fred bellowed so Draco could hear. Looking around, Draco decided it was fine; the constant hum of excited voices and the cacophony of sounds from the different items, he rather liked it. He smiled at the twin and gave him a thumbs up, earning a smile back that as far as Draco could tell, was genuine. Fred remained behind the counter with Draco, managing the cash register while the blonde looked around not being able to completely hide his fascination with some of the items on display.

As much as Draco hated being watched over, the Weasley twins gave him his space and for that he was thankful. They were the type of people that followed no pattern, their actions and words unpredictable, making it very hard to figure them out. And the fact that they were much smarter than they led on only added to that. They reminded him of Theo in a way, always making people laugh. The thought of Theo brought forth a pang to his chest, he remembered what Potter had said about Theo being involved in some stuff. He hoped his friend was alright.

George would pass by every few minutes carrying boxes or whatnot, he’d show some to Draco leaving them so he could look at them more closely, sometimes gauging his reaction and looking very pleased when Draco showed his approval or interest. He felt like a child being given toys to placate him. But alas his curiosity would get the best of him with them, most were rather simple in magical complexity while others left his hand itching for a wand to see just how they had come to work like they did.

For just a moment he had completely forgotten his plan to sneak off into a bookshop or even into Knockturn alley. That was until an opportunity presented itself. He was examining a trick box when his eyes saw it. A wand. It was just a foot from him, forgotten on the edge of the counter. He turned to Fred, but the man was occupied talking to a kid about talking quills.

Slowly and trying not to make any eyes go to him, he inched toward it. He was standing just in front of it, he laid his hand on the counter keeping his eyes darting around in case the owner of the wand noticed its absence and decided to look for it. Almost as slowly he moved his hand toward it, what felt like an eternity later his fingers reached it. His heart felt like it wanted to escape his chest from the excitement of finally having a wand in his hand.

Now, with more confidence, he brought it nearer to him. Grabbing it in his right hand, he took one final look around making sure no one was watching before daring to wave it. He had not really thought of any spell but done it out of pure instinct. He expected some spark to come out the tip of the wand. Instead it emitted a loud squeak before turning into a limp plastic chicken. The sound had made Fred turn to Draco; at the sight of the rubber chicken he immediately knew what had happened. The twin threw his head back in laughter at the sight.

Draco wanted to chuck the bloody thing at the man. The back of his neck burned from the shame of not only being fooled by the damn thing but also by the fact that it did not go unnoticed. He cursed himself, how could he be so foolish! He could not, even for a moment, forget that he was on a mission. Just because people seemed to somewhat like him it did not mean he should relax.

Once upon a time failure could mean death, and as long as he didn’t know what had happened to cause these changes in his life, he couldn’t let his guard down.

* * *

When Fred took him back to Grimmauld place, it was to find a still empty house. He said goodbye to the twin trying to make him leave quickly. The red head patted him on the shoulder saying he and his brother would see him soon and left.

Being alone again, Draco decided it was as good a time as ever to send his letter to Granger. He returned to his room still berating himself over the whole fake wand fiasco. Not only had he had to endure their jokes and smile along but they made it impossible for him to sneak out. No matter how inconspicuous he thought he was being they would always be looking his way every few minutes. The trip had been a waste of time.

Now a sheet of parchment and a quill lay in front of Draco. He held the quill awkwardly, his hand feeling foreign. He had gone through the words he would use in the letter that morning while eating breakfast. But now, with ink ready, the words just did not seem right.

How should he even address Granger? By first name seemed wrong, even if they had been friends, it did not sound right to him. By just her last name sounded too aggressive. After what felt like too long for just a greeting Draco decided on starting the letter with a simple _Dear Miss Granger_.

_Yeah, that sounded ok. Not too casual, but not aggressive._

It took perhaps even longer to write the next 2 sentences. But altogether he was happy with the result. It was very simple and gave nothing away. That was the perfect way to make a request, make them curious enough to accept coming to you just to know.

He signed the letter and rolled it up before he remembered how he was to send it if he did not even know if he owned an owl. He would have to wait until someone got home to send it. Not knowing what to do Draco decided to return to the study and perhaps read more into the book he had found earlier. He saved the letter in his pocket and left his bedroom in search of his book.

A knock at the front door had Draco stopping mid step though. Who could possibly be knocking? As far as he understood only people that were confided the place’s location could see it or even access its door. And the twins had him thinking that everyone came and went as they wanted.

Shrugging he went to the door feeling very curious to see who it was. He opened the door and found a young woman standing at the doorstep. She looked relieved that it was Draco who opened the door, a small smile on her face.

“Draco, I hope you excuse the intrusion” she looked behind her shoulder as if making sure no one had followed her. “I need to talk to you”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Ahhhhh so exited for the next chapters! Who is this mystery woman? Any ideas? o.o  
> Feedback is always appreciated, i love hearing from you! 
> 
> Visit me on tumblr @whatwoulddracodo


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

Draco had quickly let Astoria in and led her to the study. She had followed him without saying a word but, by the way she was clasping her hands together, it was quite obvious she was very nervous. They sat one in front of the other, him preferring to give her space. Draco waited for her to begin speaking but she merely looked around the study, her eyes darting quickly from one place to another. He knew he had to break the silence but the fact that he could not speak was as annoying as ever. He coughed wanting to get her attention, the sound made her quickly turn towards him a bit guiltily. 

She opened her mouth to speak but merely let out a huff of air before closing it again. Draco waited patiently, feeling a mixture of curiosity and exasperation.

Gaining a bit of confidence, she finally spoke "I am very sorry for dropping in without invitation, Draco, you know I would never do such a thing if it weren’t necessary." He nodded trying to convey his understanding with his eyes. Needless to say, emoting was hard, especially when you were taught from a young age to do the opposite.

"I read on the prophet you had an accident while on duty, I hope I find you well." Again she lapsed into silence. Seeing the woman’s struggle to talk, Draco pointed to his throat and did a slashing motion, he followed it up by pointing to his mouth and shaking his head. Astoria's seemed to not understand at first but then her eyes went big from realization.

"You can't talk!" She gasped. Again, Draco nodded.

"Maybe I should leave, I was silly in coming. It’s nothing really”, she started getting up, but Draco stood up faster. He lifted his hands up in a placating way. Slowly he maneuvered her back onto the couch and took a seat beside her now.

"Coming here was a bad idea, I don’t mean to cause any trouble. You already have enough on your plate. " She stammered quickly whilst shaking her head. Draco waited for her to calm down and stop jabbering. He would normally offer her tea but considering he had no house elf and did not know how to use a kettle himself he tried to look as compassionate as possible and merely patted her arm.

"It's silly, really, just rumors and I thought perhaps you should know and do what you believed correct with that information" she spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. But Draco understood her perfectly, she had information but did not want it revealed that she was the source. Why she believed he should know said rumors made him curious and slightly anxious. As she said, he had enough on his plate already.

"You possibly know of the investigation around Mr. Crouch’s death?" She inquired nervously but kept her voice steady. Draco assented, not knowing where this was going.

"Something is happening, Draco, something big." Her eyes were big as she looked at him, "Certain people are planning things and getting more people involved, it... It's frightening."

Draco had gotten closer to Astoria, he held her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He felt his hands go cold. The thought of certain people planning and recruiting made him think back to many years back when his father had been the one planning and scheming. He wanted more than anything to ask her who they were and what they were planning, but he could not even move.

"Someone planted the seed in the correct person and what we thought was just crazy talk is turning into reality and I can’t stand by, not anymore. People will get hurt, some are already getting hurt", She gulped before continuing and squeezing his hand back even tighter "There are certain core people in this but it's not about them, they are just getting things ready for someone else, their real leader."

 _No_ , no, she could not mean _Him_. Surely not. No, _He_ was gone, long dead, he had seen it himself. The memory brought forth the screams of scared children, the feeling in the air of spells flying everywhere, a castle crumpling around him. 

He looked at his hands and it was the sight of his white knuckles that made him control himself. Astoria's hands were slightly red from where he had been squeezing them. "I had to tell someone who understood the magnitude of these… _rumors_."

Putting himself together, he nodded back, trying to not let the panic take over.

The sound of the front door being closed made both look up. Astoria quickly got to her feet "I better go." Without waiting for an answer or even a customary nod, she walked to the chimney. A swish of her wand had a fire roaring in the grate, she grabbed some floo powder from a pouch in the mantle and threw it onto the flames. "I hope to see you soon, Draco." she said before letting the flames take her away.

The fire was back to its usual red-orange when the door to the study opened. His mother poked her head inside probably looking for him. "Hello, darling, I thought I’d find you here."

* * *

The moment they had reached the kitchen, Draco reached into his pocket and gave the letter to his mother. She had raised her eyebrows but said nothing, although, when she saw whose name was written on it, she smiled and went back upstairs to send it.

Draco had sat at the table staring at the fire while his mother returned and served him lunch. He could not take Astoria's words out of his mind.

He was not sure what his relationship with Astoria was and why she would come to him. Could he even trust her? They were not exactly friends, more like acquaintances. They had only begun treating each other some months back when his mother insisted he socialize with other people apart from Blaise and Theo. He was now 24 and his mother made it a habit to remind him every day that he had to fulfill his social duties as head of the Malfoy family.

It had taken some time, but pureblood society once again was the center of the wizarding community. That tends to happen when the old wizarding families are also the richest and most participative in both politics and economy. Of course, after the war, the old families tried to look as good as possible to the public, renouncing old ways and embracing all wizarding folk no matter their ancestral tree. Or at least that is what they showed, but behind closed doors purebloods were still arranging marriages between them and trying to keep their involvement with muggleborns to the minimum.

For him, trying to get back into society was hard when once he had navigated it effortlessly, now he felt out of place. He knew all wizarding families or, at least, the ones his father deemed worth knowing. They had all broken contact and amity with his family the moment they went on trial, both business and friendships were damned. It was only once they were announced innocent that they all came back wanting to renew ties, he cared for none of them.

Because of his mother’s nagging he attended the balls and the galas still managing to garner a fair bit of attention by both the people and the press. He hated it. But it came with some new acquaintances, Astoria included. His mother did not think very highly of her but still encouraged the friendship. He quite liked her company; she was smart and very kind. And the fact that she came from a smaller less well-off family meant she had very different values and views of the way society worked, it was refreshing to spend time with someone like her. It was perhaps those values that made him feel sure she was telling the truth. But in this instance the truth was, as she said, very frightening. 

Not even the fact that his mother was cooking, something he did not even know she could _do_ , managed to distract him. His mental health had never been the best but these last days had truly been testing him. He needed a Calming Drought and a Concentration Potion at the very least. It felt like every time he managed to calm himself and take a step closer to figuring out this mess, something new was thrown at him, whether it be dead people that were now alive again or massive changes to his life. But _him_ being back was too much.

And the more he denied it, the more he got to thinking that he knew very little of what was going on. Many things had changed so following that logic: how could he know that _he_ was truly dead? What if _he_ too was now back to life?

He ate his food on autopilot, not really tasting it. His mother was talking about something she saw in the prophet but was not really looking at him to notice how lost in his thoughts he was.

“Harry, you’re home early!” Draco looked up to see Potter enter.

“I decided to finish my work here, the office was too loud.” He explained, taking a seat beside Draco. “Alright, mate?”

He very much wanted to answer a resounding _NO_! He was mid nod when it struck him.

Potter!

The information from Astoria!

She wanted him to pass it onto Potter! How daft was he, it was obvious! Potter must have noticed his sudden torrent of emotions and stared at him with uncertainty. “Draco?”

Draco got up and motioned for him to follow him, he did not want his mother to hear what he had to tell potter.

“Where are you going, boys?” his mother asked suspiciously.

“To the study” Harry answered quickly as they left the room, not allowing her to ask more questions. Harry could feel Draco’s urgency, and that made him walk even faster after him. When they reached the study, Draco turned to Harry and with his hand and did a writing motion.

It took Potter a minute to understand and Draco had to fight very hard not to roll his eyes at him. A moment later, a quill, a pot of ink and a piece of parchment flew in the room, Harry caught them all and passed them to Draco, who wasted no time and went to the desk at the farther part of the study and scribbled away as fast as possible.

The scratching of the quill was the only sound in the room as Harry looked at the blond expectantly. When he was finally done, he passed the parchment to Potter. He had written it all, except for who had shared the information with him. Again, he felt his body go cold just from the implication of what she had said. Taking a seat, he watched as Potter too seemed to tense up the further he got.

“Who told you this, Draco?” Potter asked as he finally finished reading, his stance was completely different than it had been before reading the information, he was now in what Draco could imagine was his _auror mode_. Draco shook his head, making Harry let out an exasperated groan. “C’mon you have to tell me.”

Again, he just shook his head. “It’s been a long since the Ministry has picked up any possible Death Eater activity, still I’ll look into it. Let’s hope it's just a false alarm. Still, how am I supposed to take this seriously if I don’t know if your source is a reliable one.” he countered, staring him directly in the eye.

_It was a good point._

Draco took the piece of parchment from Potter and wrote down 5 words he never thought he would say to the man in front of him but he risked it anyway.

“ _You will have to trust me._ ” Harry read out loud and looked at him, really _looked_ at him. As if his green eyes could read his mind or see the truth written on his skin. Whatever he saw seemed like it was enough because he sat down and closed his eyes. “I hate you.” The words were said without any hate but more with annoyment. 

“If you do not want to say who told you, at least give me something. This person may be involved with people that are in on this, thus explaining not only them hearing things but also fearing for their safety.”

Draco pondered his words, and it was now his turn to be annoyed. Potter was right. But he had no idea who could possibly be Astoria’s link to all this. Her family were purebloods but not exactly a prominent family in society and they were not very wealthy. The closest could be her sister, Daphne, who had garnered a bit of a reputation for social climbing in the past years. Or at least that was what he knew, he was not sure if it was still the case.

Draco wrote down her family name and passed it to Potter.

He too pondered for a moment before talking. “The Greengrasses haven’t been involved in anything I can think of, but their youngest daughter is engaged to Blaise Zabbini. And we know Zabbini is Theodore Nott’s close friend.”

It was hard for Draco to keep a straight face. Blaise engaged? Surely not. If he got a galleon for every time Blaise had said he would never get married, Draco would be able to double his Gringotts account, and that was saying a lot. After all the marriages and divorces Blaise’s mother had gone through, it was no wonder his friend held no high opinion of marriage.

“I know who told you” Potter muttered more to himself than to Draco. “You don’t have to say her name. But do you know who she is? I mean do you remember her?”

Draco shook his head. It would not go down well if he remembered some random person and not the people who he lived with and were supposedly his close friends. Again, he snatched the paper from Potter and wrote down before handing it back.

Harry chuckled “Ever the hero, Draco, you should’ve been an auror. It’s the perfect job for people with a hero complex, or so I’ve been told.”

* * *

Draco stayed with Potter, who had summoned all his files from work and let him read them. They were mainly about the Crouch case, detailing mundane things like conversations he had on his last days at the Ministry to others that detailed in very graphic terminology the way he had been found. It was quite fascinating and the more he read, he forgot completely that Potter was sitting beside him. He was not a talker and Draco was thankful, the least he wanted was a chat with Scar Boy.

Minutes turned to hours of them going through files in silence until they were disturbed. To Draco’s surprise it was Granger. She smiled at him as she walked towards them, her steps made Potter look up and he too smiled widely at her.

 _Why are they always smiling? Merlin_ , _these people are weird._

“’Mione!” Potter greeted her.

“Hi Harry, Draco.” She stood in front of them looking curiously at the files that covered the desk. “Lots of work?”

“Some, Draco’s helping me go through the files.”

“That’s great.”

They lapsed into silence as Potter continued reading the file and Granger stood awkwardly looking at Draco, not knowing what to say or do. Not knowing what to do, Draco bumped Potter’s arm.

“Oh! Did you want something Hermione?” he asked blushing slightly.

“I’m actually here to talk to Draco.”

“Oooh... um... yeah, ‘course.” He got up and started ordering his files into an untidy pile looking at both her and Draco with curiosity, “I was just going to get some lunch; I’ll just um leave you to it”, he left the room shutting the door silently behind him.

“So, in your letter, you said you wanted to talk to me?” She asked quietly, as she rearranged Potter’s files into a neat pile.

Draco nodded and searched the desk for a spare piece of parchment. He signaled for Granger to wait and he started writing. She stood uncertainty at the other side of the desk, a curious expression on her face. In his head, Draco went through the dialogue he had made for this moment. Now more than ever he needed to know what had happened and what he needed to do to make things go back to normal.

When he finished, Draco passed the parchment to her. Almost too quickly she was done reading it, she looked at him with a funny look. “I don’t know what to tell you Draco. It was a kind of freak accident. The mirror was in some abandoned house, that is really all they told us. You know how your department functions; mystery is literally in their name.” She bit her lip when she finished talking.

Again, he wrote more down.

“No, I’m sorry, Draco” He had not even needed to pass the parchment to her, she had read it from where she was and responded even before he could put down the quill. “I never even saw the mirror myself.”

Again, he wrote, and she answered quickly “I understand you want to know what made you lose your memory, but The Department isn’t likely to tell us anything.”

He huffed out and tried to look put out. Her eyes never left his face, and he could tell she was waiting for him to keep writing.

This time he tried to cover the paper as he wrote. He passed the paper to her and feeling more than a little foolish, did a look he usually saved for his mother. Some would call it pleading, he preferred _convincing graciously_.

She studied the paper longer and considered him before answering “I guess we _could_ find out ourselves.”

He flashed a big smile her way and put his hand out for the parchment writing a hurried: _You’ll help me?_

She beamed back “Of course I’ll help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for taking so long to update. Shoutouts to @Brie_h and @TRIPLELLL I loveeeee reading your comments!   
> Next chapter will be filled with more people and lots of Dramione! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

For the remaining hours of the day, Draco skimmed his bedroom for information about the Second Wizarding War. He knew he would find it somewhere, it had to be mentioned in some book or old newspaper. Even now, 6 years later, it would still pop up in the  _ Prophet _ sometimes. So, he searched through what felt like thousands of books - even those that were completely unrelated, just in case. But he found nothing. 

In a spout of desperation, he left his room and looked through the dusty historical volumes in the study. He did so with a frantic desperation that had his hands shaking harder the longer he searched.

Unfortunately, most books stopped by the past century, so he found nothing. In those that were most modern, it stopped at the First Wizarding War, mentioning the fall of the Dark Lord and how Potter had mysteriously defeated him, but nothing more. He had already searched it all.

He was halfway up the stairs when the sound of laughter reached him, it came from the kitchen. A part of him cringed away from it, with all the things in his mind, being surrounded by people he did not like, talking about things he did not know was the least he needed (and wanted now). 

So, he laid in bed trying to fall asleep but, unfortunately, the quiet brought forth a wave of unwanted thoughts, most of which included his father, Blaise, and Theo.

There was still a part of his plan that made him feel uneasy. He knew his biggest chance of acquiring answers was going to the Manor. Yet, from the moment he had woken up, his mother had never even mentioned the Manor or his father. It had not escaped his attention that his existence had not been as much as mentioned and as estranged as his relationship with his father had been for the past years; before this whole mirror fiasco his mother would mention him constantly, if not daily.

The thought of not knowing if his father lived in the Manor now made Granger’s reaction to his idea of going there even more of a coin flip. His only savior was the amnesiac card, quick thinking and feigning stupidness were his only weapons now; of course he could not overuse them but that's where charm came in handy. From the short conversation, they were able to have his worry of Granger being uneasy around him was gone: she seemed perfectly amiable to him.

As to his father, he could not imagine an instance where his father could be worse, yet he knew not to dare faith, for life seemed inclined to prove what he knew of reality false. Yet, he knew there was something there that there was more to his father's absence from his life. The person he could ask was his mother, but he was not sure how to approach the subjects or how to even phrase it in an innocent manner. 

Add to that the worry of what his friends had gotten themselves involved in. For one, he could not wrap his head around Blaise being engaged to Astoria: Blaise loved making fun at him for being acquainted to Astoria, not being able to wrap his head around the fact that she was the complete opposite to her sister who they had spent years fending off while at Hogwarts. 

He hoped that whatever it was they were involved in was not as serious as Astoria made it up to be.

* * *

When the door of his bedroom shut behind him, it felt like slipping back on a mask, his shoulders stopped slouching, not letting on everything that weighed him down. He went through the same process he had the day before, going down to the kitchen and taking his breakfast. This time his mother was present, but she was busy writing a letter, she seemed to not have anything to talk about and let him eat in silence.

Draco could not help but discreetly look at her from the corner of his eyes. She looked just as always, the same blonde hair elegantly styled and expensive clothes tailored for her from fine fabric. However he knew there was something about her that felt different. It could have been the twinkle in her eye he had never really noticed before or even the fact that she seemed to smile more easily. Narcissa Malfoy was not emotionless like many would believe but somehow she now seemed to express much more. 

Draco’s chest felt heavy against his heart, if there was a constant in his life, that was his mother. He loved her with all his heart and yet here he was, feeling like she was not the woman he knew. She was changed and, although the change was a positive one, it brought forth a wave of emotions he did not know could possess him. He looked away feeling like there was no air in the room.

Narcissa looked tranquil and perfectly content just as Draco always wished she would be, but there was always a dullness to her eyes or a line to her forehead that broke the illusion for him. Not wanting emotion to take over, he got up, the movement making his mother turn to him. He smiled and, not really knowing what he was doing, walked toward her and bent over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. He felt that his mere presence would pass on his sudden despair onto his mother, like an infectious grey cloud. She smiled warmly at him, ignorant to the turmoil that was raging in his mind and returned to her letter.

Draco took comfort in the study. He grabbed the nearest book and let himself be distracted by words that held no meaning but managed to slowly garner his brain blank. By the time Granger arrived, he was just staring at the same page, his eyes unmoving but his breathing back to normal and knuckles pale but not white.

“Hi!” She breathed timidly, placing a stack of books she was carrying beside him. “I picked these up this morning.”

Draco nodded at her and took the first book from the stack, it was black leather bound, on the cover big bronze letters read “Kinsey’s Complete Collection of Charms”. He could feel Granger’s eyes on his as he read through its index, looking for anything good. Chapter 5 caught his eye at the word “portal”. He hastily turned the pages but the feeling of Granger watching him was not a comfortable one. He looked up, catching her staring and she quickly looked away, grabbing for the next book in the pile.

He felt vexed but quickly chastised himself, inwardly groaning. No matter how much he did not like the idea of relying on Granger for information, he knew deep deep…very deep inside his head that if there was someone who could possibly help him, it was her. He reminded himself that they were no longer in their Hogwarts days when she was (clearly) the smartest person around, but it was not for nothing she was still signaled as the brightest witch her age, the brightest witch the Ministry had. There was no denying it and he would be a fool to say it was not true.

Still much like Potter, their past was still fresh in his memory or, at least, what he knew was their past for he knew in her mind she housed different memories. His opinions of Granger had of course changed through the years, around the time he stopped feeling superior to everyone around him. As time progressed, he started admitting many things to himself, things that came with growing up. He recognized she was probably the smartest person he knew (even if he knew absolutely nothing about her aside from her birth status and Hogwarts house), she was extremely magically talented, and she was a key in her side winning the war, and  _ that _ , that was enough for him to know that her help was  _ enough _ .

The fact that she was a know-it-all and had some annoying tendencies were not a dealbreaker. Yes, his mind seemed to go back to his teenage years and make scowling at her an almost instinct, but he fought against it. He had to remember he needed her help and that, as far as he knew, he did not know anything about this Granger and with her he had a blank sheet.

They went through the books rather quickly; Draco and Granger had accorded on looking for anything related to mirror portals. Draco knew finding anything would be difficult, but it was the only safe way of searching for what he really sought. He went through every book, even the ones Granger had already read through, she did not say anything when he did so but rather passed on every book she was done with to him. He scanned almost every page for anything that went from reality to dreams. He had thought about all this very cold headedly last night and the fact that this could all be a dream or something happening in his head was still an option. He knew he had felt pain when waking in the hospital and that everything felt very real but, still, he could not discard it.

He felt his heart stop every time he read certain words, but he did not find anything that added in his predicament in the slightest.

Hermione looked at Draco from the corner of her eye, she had been caught looking at him before, but she just could not help herself. She had been so happy when she received his letter asking her to come see him, and even more when he told her the reason behind it. The fact that he went to her for help was heartwarming and had her feeling giddy for the rest of the evening after she left Grimmauld Place. The giddiness lasted all through the morning, some last remains still making her heart go faster than usual.

As Draco went through all the books she had brought with her, brow furrowed in concentration, she fought back a smile that threatened to escape: in that moment, he was the Draco she knew. The Draco that got lost in books, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He would skim each book with care, his eyes moving from line to the next, disappointment marring his expression with every book he put aside. The hours passed and he became more forceful with the books, each page carelessly flipped sometimes making the pages bend, she had to stop herself from chastising him. She knew he was frustrated but she never liked people treating books without care.

When he had finished combing through the last book in the pile, Draco reached for the parchment she had remembered to bring so they could communicate.

_ There is nothing  _ it read; the words untidy from his obvious exasperation.

“I am sorry, Draco. Maybe I could write a letter to Hogwarts and skim the library for something. I really cannot think of anywhere else we could find useful books here in Magical London. I mean I went through the whole list at  Flourish and Blotts . Surely, I could go to  Obscurus Books but they carry similar tomes.”

_ I do not think just any bookshop carries books about what we are searching for. _

“Yes, I have thought the same. The question is where else to look?” Hermione closed her eyes going through every possibility. Never had books faulted her this way, she never needed a book about something as complex or obscure as this.

_ I believe the information may be in some old book or possibly one with dark magic. _

“Do you mean we’d find something in  Knockturn Alley ?” She felt herself shudder from even mentioning such a place.

_ I was thinking more like private libraries, old families have their own collections of old books.  _ She felt relieved as she read his answer.

“Of course, but I don’t think we have access to many of those, here is the closest.”

_ Maybe. _

He seemed to ponder before finally writing again, his one-word answer made Hermione curious. “What are you thinking?”

_ Well _ _ it was nothing. Forget it. _

“No, please, tell me, go on.” If there was one thing she hated was being left out on something, no matter its importance.

_ I was thinking maybe there is another library we could have access to... _

_ “ _ I do not follow.”

_ I believe Malfoy Manor has a large library. _

Hermione could not help the gasp that escaped her lips at the mention of that place. “Draco, how do you know that?”

He looked down at his hands before writing,  _ Last night, as I was looking through all the books in here, it just came to me. I do not really remember much beside that, am I wrong? If I said something wrong, please forgive me and forget I said anything _ .

It took her a moment to organize her thoughts. Out of all the things he could have suggested, Malfoy Manor was one she could have never thought of. She could see his obvious discomfort then as he avoided her eyes. She chose her words carefully and tried to return the mood to how it had been just minutes before.

“No, it’s nothing wrong. In theory, you might be correct, I really don’t know much about it.”

He seemed tentative when writing again.

_ Is there a chance we could go? _

“Well…again, in theory, yes. You see, Draco, you may not remember this but, as far as I know, you have never really gone to the Manor or wanted to go. It is yours but you have never really claimed it. There are some wards protecting it but, as you are the rightful owner, well that will not be a problem but…I just do not know how to feel about going there.” She spoke as casually as possible.

_ I know you may not feel comfortable and I am sorry for bringing it up, but it is an option and the moment it came to mind, I knew that I could share it with you. _

Hermione closed her eyes when she finished reading. Now she was split, split because she really did not want to go to Malfoy Manor but at the same time: how could she deny this man anything? His words of trust just broke her apart and she knew that if he weren’t sitting there in front of her, she would probably be bawling her eyes out. A small voice in her mind told her that, yes, this was her best friend, but in that moment he didn’t know many things and if she went on with this plan of his, when he regained his memories, there was a chance he would be very angry at her for not stopping him from doing what he wanted to do.

“Well, we could find something, but I do not think your mother would approve of this.” She finally found her voice to answer.

_ It will just have to be our secret, yes? _

When she looked up from the note, he was giving her that look, the one he did when he wanted her compliance. She almost groaned as her resolve became dust.

“Ok, so when are we doing this?” His face split into a smile that had her forgetting what a bad idea this was.

_ Why wait. _

“Now?” Again, she felt dread fill her, she thought she would at least get a night to mentally psych herself up for whatever it was they would come across.

_ Yes! _ He still wore the same smile, one that had her feeling like a teenager again, as if this were not anything more than a midnight tour around the Hogwarts grounds.

“But you do not even have a wand.” That was the only excuse she could think of.

_ Well, unless you want to steal it back for me from my mother, there is not much we can do about that. _

“Alright, still where will we tell her we are going; she is not very comfortable with you leaving her side right now.”

_ She trusts you; we will tell her we are just going for a walk, yes? _

* * *

__ Draco could not believe he had convinced Granger to go to the Manor. A combination of quick thinking and charm had done it, it had been much easier than he thought. Yes, there was still a nagging sensation in his mind willing his thoughts to deviate away from the task at hand, but, as the fresh breeze cooled his cheeks and the scenery changed around him, it was easier to extricate himself from those thoughts.

Granger did not know exactly where the Manor was, so she had apparated them a bit to the south, but it was just a few minutes’ walk. It was not long before they reached the hedge that surrounded the grounds, they walked with it to their right trying to reach the front gates. He had never had to walk around the outer grounds and sweat started to form on his brow before he could see the gates from afar.

It seemed like forever when,  _ finally _ , they stood before the gates. The sight of his home made him want to run toward it and leave Granger there, but he knew that was a silly thought. He did not feel time as he looked around the grounds and the structure, all seemed the same to him from the distance.

It was Granger that broke the silence.

“Ready?” She asked in a small voice, not looking very convinced of what they were about to do.

Draco nodded and, without thinking more into it, he stepped forward feeling nothing as the bars of the gates turned to smoke around him welcoming their master back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is the first chapter of the year, I'm trying to go back to weekly chapters but writers block is a bitch.  
> Hugs wherever you are in the world! xoxo
> 
> P.S Please dont hate me for my cliffhangers :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

Draco walked slowly trying his hardest not to show his excitement, but it was hard. He knew many answers awaited him inside the Manor; all his hope was put on it. The closer he got to his house, his excitement was slightly marred by what he saw and he noticed what from afar he had not. The grounds looked dry and forlorn contrary to their usual green lush appearance, and his mother’s garden had fallen into despair. The building itself seemed muted, the stone looked a dirty grey from neglect and the usual shine the windows once had were replaced by a noticeable layer of dust.

In all his life never had the manor looked so  _ sad _ , not even in the dark days where it was more of a prison than a home for him. Even then, his mother had done all she could to maintain things as normal as possible for him.

They reached the doors quickly. Once they stood in the doorstep, Draco turned to Granger, and, just by the look on her face, he could tell she was more than a little intimidated. Her eyes were open wide and she was chewing on her bottom lip, something he had now come to realize was a habit of hers when she was nervous.

Not waiting for her to take the lead, Draco placed his hand on the door and pushed it. The door opened without protest, giving them a full view of what awaited them inside. It was very dark, the little light coming from the few windows with open curtains.

Squaring up his shoulders, Draco took the first step. He stood for a second trying to hear something, but everything was silent, which was not exactly uncommon in his house.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Draco?” Came Granger’s voice, a little more than a squeak.

Draco tried very hard not to roll his eyes, instead he plastered on a smile and nodded to Granger. He took her arm and maneuvered her inside, closing the door behind them. She stood still, only moving her eyes around, with her wand at the ready. He could almost sense her discomfort and, knowing this was not the last time she would be asking him to leave, he opted for something that he knew would work. Instead of having Granger trail behind him, slowing him down, he took her hand and put it at his arm. She squeezed his arm and nodded.

As Draco started walking, he could not deny he had thought about this moment more than he cared to admit even to himself. He would find himself imagining the Manor in various states, he imagined it bare of anything, only floors and ceilings, empty and forlorn. Another time he imagined the walls crumbling, furniture turned to dust or in pieces, perhaps mirroring the state in which his own mind felt. A small part of him even imagined it being just as it had been the last time, as when he left it all those mornings ago, to go to work.

In reality it was a weird combination of many scenarios. Yes, it was in a way exactly as he had left it, with the furniture in the same places but it was covered with layers of dust. It seemed like no one had lived in the Manor for a very long time, he was even as bold as to believe that no one had been inside for quite a while either. The carpets exuded small clouds of dust with every step they took, and on the floors their footprints were marked. It was obvious the house was abandoned. The first thing that popped to mind was that there was no way his father could be living at the Manor, so that raised another question:  _ Where _ was his father?

Draco walked in a tentative pace selling to her the illusion that this too was his first time there, they went through many rooms until finally they reached the study. It was a very big room covered floor to ceiling in books. It was then that Granger seemed to lose all fear; at the sight of the books, she let go of Draco’s arm and walked to the nearest shelf. Her eyes devoured the titles, it was obvious she felt more comfortable surrounded by the books.

“Should we um…check half and half?” Draco nodded and pointed to himself and one side of the study, Granger nodded back her agreement. He walked slowly to the shelf he knew had some very interesting books. He had incidentally given himself the side of the library that had the most opportunity of being helpful. Books of astronomy, alchemy, ancient runes, and ancient magic. They were some of the oldest and most complex volumes in his father’s collection, some had been passed from many generations back, meaning they were most likely unique. His father had never let him even touch them, so when he moved away, Draco was able to finally delve into them, he had made it his purpose to study them all. He had gotten through only a handful of them, wanting to learn everything and master all the knowledge they contained slowed him down more than if he were just reading them. He passed by the ones he knew almost by heart and went through those that were still untouched by him.

They were full of very interesting topics and it made it hard for Draco to put them down even when he knew there was nothing useful for him inside. Through some books, the words  _ portal _ and  _ reality _ stuck up to him. He was not finding anything about mirrors but that did not deter him; in his mind he remembered portkeys, they could be anything. And he felt that way about the mirror, he knew the magic that it possessed might not have to be limited to a mirror. The understanding behind what it had done, and how it had done it was more important.

Every so often, he would turn to Granger, she would be with her head bent over a book or her fingers flying across book spines completely oblivious to him or what he was doing. It was a welcomed change, not feeling observed.

He was halfway through the first shelf he had to search when he found something that made his stomach drop. It was inside an unassuming black volume, not very big in size and with nothing remarkable on its cover. Its title gave nothing away, it sounded quite pedestrian to Draco, who read the index without much hope. It was just a magical theory collection, the first few chapters talked about basic concepts, but it gradually evolved into more complex and even philosophic subjects.

It had Draco raising his eyebrows in surprise, he was already thinking of putting it in his coat to take to Grimmauld place before he reached Chapter 15 the final chapter. It was called the Rosié theory, and it was the author’s own compilation of learnings. The mere two-line summary of it was enough to have Draco flipping the pages to it.

The theory was a complex one, it read of possibilities long known to wizards, but the scale in which it was applied seemed exaggerated. It mentioned concepts that seemed more child imagination than actual possibilities, still Draco continued reading. In the past, he would have read this and scoffed at it. But now? He could not stop reading, it all made sense in a way. The magical components mentioned were simple and undeniable but the astrological aspects of it all, the philosophic elements of reality and existence were possibly what made it sound far fetched and like a conspiracy.

“Find anything?”

Granger’s voice made Draco remember where he was and with who. He shook his head without turning around, he knew the shock of what he was reading was obvious on his face.

“We’ve been at this for some hours now. We should go and maybe come back another day, your mom will not believe we took so long on a walk.” He could hear Granger putting back books on the shelves, and although he wanted to keep looking, he at least knew he had something to work with. So instead of trying to convince her to stay longer, he put the book inside his coat while trying to master his expression into something acceptable.

They walked back into the hallway and a sudden idea hit him. He could not help the curiosity which he now let himself feel. He had been so worried about the outcome of their visit regarding information that he had not thought of the answers the house could hold. Now with a book that could contain answers, he let himself be carried away from his main mission for a moment.

He grabbed Granger's hand and, without waiting for her reaction, pulled her along. He knew this was the fastest way of getting her to move and, as much as he did not particularly like that kind of hand in hand contact, he knew it was necessary. He led Granger up the staircase to where the bedrooms were located.

A single door called his name, he knew what he’d find inside would probably give him even more to process but he caved into the curiosity.

Him and Granger walked slowly, not really opening any of the doors that lined the long hallway but rather looked around at the paintings and tapestries that decorated the walls. Most of them were of landscapes and olden Malfoy properties. He’d seen them so many times that they had long lost their appeal.

Finally, they paused in front of a door,  _ the door _ .

Draco was thankful for the small plaque that adorned it, it was very similar to the one at his door in Grimmauld place, only this one only had both his first and second name. He looked at Granger and found that she too was looking at him. He found that for the first time since being in her presence, he could not read her. He had no idea what she was thinking. She squeezed his hand, and he took that as an encouragement for him to open it. So, he did…

The room was unlike any other in the house, the walls painted a light blue that looked almost white. The floor was covered in a similar colored rug with a toy box and various small pieces of furniture scattered around. A big crib was placed in the middle of the room Draco felt his heart in his throat. He had no memory of this room, but he had seen it in photographs of when he was a baby.

To see his nursery covered in dust made him feel incredibly sad and perhaps even more lost than he already felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, this one is a short one but next chapter is gonna be longer and contain many answers! Promise!  
> xoxo Gee
> 
> https://whatwoulddracodo.tumblr.com/


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